Page 36 of Borrowed Time

10

A NIGHT AT THE THEATER

Hiddenamong the dresses and underthings in the trunk my mother had left behind had been a gorgeous teal silk brocade gown. I’d hung it up along with everything else I found in the trunk, but I hadn’t believed I’d ever get to wear the dress during my tenure in the 1884 Flagstaff. It was the sort of thing you’d wear to a fancy dinner or the theater, not merely while walking around town.

But it seemed we were going to the theater tonight.

The dress wasn’t a ballgown, though, no matter how fancy it looked. My mother had told me some of the things she’d learned about fashion of the 1880s when she was preparing for her trip back in time to save my father, and one of them was that ballgowns either had no sleeves or small puffed sleeves, not these pretty elbow-length ones with their edging of hand-tatted silk lace.

But that was fine. I certainly didn’t know how to waltz or how to perform any of the other dances popular in the period, so I was more than happy to go to the theater tonight instead.

At least it wasn’t opera. I would have gone regardless, just for the chance to get out and about, but I’d never warmed up to that particular musical form.

Dinner first, of course, right here in the restaurant at the Hotel San Francisco, since it was a little fancier than the place where we’d had lunch. A pause to put on our outerwear — the weather had continued to be dry, but the nights were cold no matter how you looked at it — and then we would walk over to Leroux Street and have our evening at the theater.

I smoothed the silk overskirt of my gown and then examined my reflection in the mirror, looking over my ensemble with a critical eye. The teal hues of the gown brought out hints of green in my eyes that weren’t normally there, and I’d used the time after we’d come back to the hotel to rearrange my hair over and over again, finally landing on a complicated updo with multiple coils piled at the back of my head, with one long curl falling over my shoulder.

Luckily, that same wardrobe trunk had yielded a finely carved tortoiseshell comb that I had placed among those coils of hair, and I’d even found a little pouch that contained garnet earrings and a matching necklace and ring, all set in real gold. Because the fateful day when my father was shot at the Wilcox cabin had fallen on a regular weekday, my mother probably hadn’t seen the need to wear any of the jewelry — or the fancy hair comb — to work, and all those items had remained safely hidden in her trunk.

Seth knocked at the door to my hotel room, and I went to open it.

Even lost in time as we were, I had to admit there was something immensely satisfying about being able to make a man’s jaw drop like that.

“You — you look beautiful,” he blurted, then sent a worried glance down the hallway.

We were alone, though, with no witnesses to overhear that very unbrotherly compliment.

“Thank you,” I said serenely. “Just my luck that my mother had this awesome dress with the other things she left behind. But I suppose we should go down to dinner so we’re not late for the show.”

He seemed to come back to himself, and offered me his arm. “So you don’t have trouble with the stairs,” he explained.

It was in my mind to point out that I’d been managing those stairs in my bustled dresses for the past couple of days with no problem, but I decided that wouldn’t be very polite.

And, to be honest, the train on this dress was a little longer than the others, befitting its special-occasion status.

Dinner was excellent as always, and afterward, we headed out into the frosty night air — one of my wool cloaks hiding the glory of my gown, and Seth wearing his new overcoat — so we could walk over to the theater. Judging by the foot traffic on the streets around us, it seemed as though we weren’t the only ones with a similar diversion in mind, as most people appeared to be heading in the same direction.

I was glad we’d bought our tickets early, since we’d snagged the last few balcony seats rather than having to sit in the floor section with people crowding on either side. Instead, an usher showed us to the cutest little balcony with three chairs placed in it, although it seemed the third one would remain unoccupied.

Seth helped me with my cloak, which I laid on the empty seat, and he removed his overcoat and placed it on the chair as well.

“This is so fun,” I said, scanning the room. It wasn’t a very large theater, with seating for maybe a hundred people at most, but other little alcoves like the one where we were currently sitting adorned the opposite wall, all of them decorated with lots of gilt-brushed carvings. The ceiling of the theater itself had been painted to look like the night sky, with stars and the moonand billowy clouds making it feel as if we were sitting outside. “I’ve never been in a theater like this before.”

He glanced around at our surroundings, keen blue eyes taking in all the various details. “What are theaters like in your time?”

“A lot plainer,” I replied. “That is, I’m sure some antique theaters like this survive in various places, but I’ve never been to one. And our movie theaters are more about having the biggest screens and the best sound systems possible.”

“‘Sound systems’?” he repeated, looking puzzled.

Oh, right. I didn’t think they had talking movies in 1926 yet, which would explain his confusion.

“Not too long after your time, movies started having sound,” I said. “You can hear the people talking and hear the soundtrack…the musical score,” I added hastily, since his brows had begun to pull together in puzzlement once again.

Now he looked wistful. “That must be something to see.”

“Oh, it is,” I said. Probably better not to try explaining modern special effects and all the other improvements the movie industry had implemented over the past hundred-plus years. As far as I could tell, no one was trying to listen to us — and it wouldn’t have been all that easy, not with the walls that separated the little balconies from one another and the general murmur of the audience drifting up from the main seating area on the floor — but at the same time, I didn’t think it was a good idea to go into too many details. “But I think this is a lot of fun, too.”

His mouth quirked. “Well, maybe we should reserve judgment until we see the actual entertainment.”

---